


tonight i'll need you to stay

by orphan_account



Series: i ponder of something great [2]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Anxiety, M/M, Self Isolation, mentions of abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-18
Updated: 2016-07-18
Packaged: 2018-07-24 20:13:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7521514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dan thought for sure that this would be better for them both; if they were to separate, Phil could stop worrying and move on while Dan attempted to conquer his fears alone. Dan realized more or less quickly that he didn’t want Phil to move on (and Phil didn’t want to, either).</p>
            </blockquote>





	tonight i'll need you to stay

**Author's Note:**

> based on the twenty one pilots song “the run and go” !! this took forever to write since it’s very personal to me, but here it is! finished! off of my shoulders and now ready for you. hope you enjoy being frustrated at dan
> 
> also in case you didn't notice: this is a sequel to "i ponder of something great"! so read that first if you havent :')

_**I CAN’T TAKE THEM ON MY OWN** _

 

_Peace will win and fear will lose._

That was a nice thought while it lasted, but days became weeks and weeks became months and Dan’s therapy wasn’t doing much of anything. Dan was, not ironically, too anxious to talk to his parents about finding a new therapist, but all she did was tell him to picture a “happy place”, really. And it didn’t work. (Dan’s happy place was with Phil, but he’d pushed Phil away.)

Well, maybe there was one improvement. If Dan had counted correctly, it’d been two months since he’d had the nightmare. It’d also been three months since _The Night of Confrontation_ , and thus three months since he stopped talking to Phil. He wondered if there was correlation between the two, but wished the thought away.

And Dan wasn’t particularly one to lie, but he definitely took to not telling the whole truth. So when his mother asked him how he was faring, he would give her a soft smile and say that he was okay. He _was_ okay. Kind of. He wasn’t okay when he went to school and forced himself to ignore Phil, and he wasn’t okay after he shut the door to his room for the night, but in between he was okay.

Dan was hopeful when he first started therapy, but as each session passed he lost the intensity he had started with. He still clung desperately to the idea that Phil wanted him to get better, but as time went on he began to feel so much more hopeless. _Why should Phil even care?_ Despite the fact Dan had thought this way so many moons ago when Phil first started to befriend him, the mindset was returning.

And Phil had some more friends. Dan often saw him with another boy with brown curly hair, PJ, and a girl with long blonde hair that he didn’t recognize. The pair looked friendly and they all seemed to be having a good time without Dan. Even if he’d wanted to introduce himself, he’d made a promise to himself and to Phil that he would find his way on his own.

_On his own._

It was hard enough to struggle with mental illness in the first place, but Dan learned it was even harder on his own. He just couldn’t bring himself to drag someone else down with him; he didn’t want to push his burden onto someone else like he had in the past with Phil.

Though Phil swore he didn’t mind, as time passed Dan doubted that. He seemed a lot happier with his new friends, anyway. He probably didn’t even think of Dan anymore. That’s how Dan had wanted it to be, wasn’t it?

Maybe not.

* * *

“Dan!” his mother called to him from the kitchen, prompting Dan to get out of his bed and meet his mother where she called from.

As he stepped into the kitchen, his mother thrusted the home phone towards him. “For you,” she mouthed.

Dan shook his head, backing out of the kitchen so she couldn’t force the phone to him. He could hear his mother speak to whomever had called as he walked away, “Sorry, he’s not feeling well. Yes, I know this always happens…”

He swallowed harshly as he closed his bedroom door once again, leaning his back against it. Dan couldn’t think of anyone else that would call for him besides Phil, and what was that ‘this always happens’ from his mother? Had Phil called in the past? Dan wasn’t aware. Perhaps his mother had been covering for him.

Within the next couple of minutes, Dan’s mother approached Dan’s closed bedroom door cautiously. She knocked on it softly, turning the knob after Dan had called for her to come in.

“That was Phil,” she said, affirming Dan’s suspicions. “He’s really worried about you, you know. I think you should talk to him.”

“I can’t,” Dan replied, ripping his eyes away from his mother’s. “I can’t do that.”

“Do you mind telling me why not?”

Dan had never told his mother about the dream. He’d also made sure that his therapist never mentioned it to her. Actually, he made sure that his therapist never mentioned much of anything to her. He didn’t want her to be unnecessarily worried, and the same went for Phil. (Except maybe their worrying was necessary.)

“I just… I can’t, Mum. I can’t do it.”

Dan’s mother’s expression turned downcast, her slight forced smile transforming into a frown. “You can’t do this forever, Dan. He cares about you, even if you don’t want him to.”

“I know that!” Dan refrained from raising his voice. “I know he cares, but he shouldn’t.”

Furrowing her eyebrows, his mother placed a hand on Dan’s shoulder. He shrugged it off. He appreciated that she was _trying_ , since she hadn’t in the past, but she could never quite get it right. She could never make Dan feel much better.

“Someday, he’s going to show up here at the house, and I’m going to let him in. Daniel, you can’t run away from him forever.”

“And why can’t I?” Dan demanded, “I only have ever done him harm.”

Dan’s mother didn’t know why she didn’t say what she wanted to; she wanted to disprove Dan’s statement and list things that Dan had done for Phil, starting with that Dan had given him a safe space and let him stay over while his parents fought. She just wasn’t very good with words.

“Dinner’s almost ready,” she said instead, “I expect–”

“I’m not hungry.” Dan turned away from her, willing her to just leave him alone so he could cry.

“You’re eating if I have to force feed you,” she retorted, beginning to turn to exit the room. “If you want to get better, you _have_ to take initiative. You have to take care of yourself.”

Admitting defeat, Dan nodded.

When she finally left the room, the door swinging shut behind her, Dan buried his head in his hands.

_How come no one understands how difficult this is? It’s not like flipping a switch! How come everyone thinks that you’re making this harder for yourself, and how come anyone still cares?_

As far as Dan was concerned, he was a lost cause – a raft caught out at sea. And no matter how much Dan denied it as so, Phil was the lighthouse far, far in the distance, trying to reach him.

* * *

Dan skipped therapy that next week. He forged a note from his mother that said he’d been excused from this week, and that he’d be back the next. (He wasn’t entirely sure that was true.)

He found himself walking absentmindedly down the street after his mother had dropped him off in front of his therapist’s and after she had driven away and lost sight of him. He figured there would probably be repercussions for this when his mother found out, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. That wasn’t unusual.

As he walked, Dan became hyper aware of the sound of the soles of his shoes scraping against the pavement. He paused for a moment to take off his shoes, and then he continued to walk while carrying the shoes in his hand.

Dan stopped when he reached a beach. No one was around, so he took a few steps into the sand, his bare feet sinking into the searing heat of it. He shifted his toes in the sand, watching as the grains moved together like liquid. He took another couple of steps before sitting down.

He’d heard once that the person you think of when you look out at the ocean was the person you were in love with. The ocean really reminded him of Phil’s eyes.

Watching the waves turn to white-caps and roll up onto the shore, stopping a few feet before they reached him, Dan felt so lonely. He sighed, his gaze dragging to a lone seagull that circled above him.

 _The ocean is a lonely place_ , Dan decided, _perfect for you_.

* * *

“We need to talk.” Dan’s mother waltzed into Dan’s room without knocking.

He knew what about immediately; she’d probably found out about the skipping of his therapy sessions for the past three weeks. His trip to the beach had become a habit, much to his mother’s dismay. Apparently the therapist finally decided that maybe actually contacting Dan’s mother was a good idea.

“You’ve been skipping your sessions?” she inquired, sitting on the very corner of Dan’s bed. He sat up and pressed his back against the wall. “Dan, you’re never going to get better like this.”

Dan just swallowed.

“I’ve been thinking,” she continued, “and I have a deal for you. I noticed how happy you seemed to be when Phil was around, and I don’t know why either of us let you push him away. You just seem to get more miserable every day, and I don’t think I can stand it much longer, seeing you like this.”

“A deal?” Dan questioned to humor her, though he wasn’t all that interested.

“If you let Phil back in, I’ll cancel your therapy, since it seems you’re not going anyway.”

“No–” Dan was cut off.

“It’s either you talk with Phil, or I sit in your therapy sessions with you. I’m sorry it’s had to go this far, but I thought you could handle this. Now I see you just don’t know what to do with yourself.”

“You’re not good at this comforting stuff,” Dan deadpanned, watching his mother’s lips purse as she thought of how to reply.

“Look, Dan,” she clasped her hands together. “You moping like this isn’t just affecting you, alright? You have to think about those around you, and not just yourself. What impact could you possibly have? Think about it for me.” She stood from where she’d been sitting on the bed and promptly walked out of the door.

Dan didn’t feel like thinking, so he went to sleep.

* * *

One day, Phil came to school with a bruise on his cheek.

It was barely noticeable; it looked as if he’d covered it with makeup. But Phil still sat behind Dan in history class and as Dan turned around to collect Phil’s paper, Dan was close enough to notice the purple swelling under the layers of foundation and concealer. His eyes widened and he froze in place. Phil blinked at him, raising his hand to cover his cheek.

“Take the paper.” Phil swallowed thickly, averting his gaze but not moving his hand from his face.

Dan tore his gaze from Phil’s face and grabbed his paper, passing it forward before staring at the front wall in shock. What had happened to Phil? Dan couldn’t particularly see him getting into a fight with anyone, let alone a fist fight.

As the class continued, Dan eyes remained locked on nothing in particular as he thought about what could have possibly caused this. He was shaken from his reverie as Phil tapped on his shoulder.

“You dropped your pencil,” he said with a slight smile, knowing very well that Dan would see through his plan, this time.

Dan took the pencil from Phil’s hand, smiling faintly as he remembered the first time this’d happened. The beginning of the end, maybe.

“I know it’s not your pencil, but I wanted to talk to you,” Phil quoted himself from all those months ago. “But hey, don’t worry about this – about me. I’m fine.”

“Phil…”

“I’m serious. You don’t need to worry,” he repeated, taking a deep breath afterwards.

“I can’t just… ignore it!”

“You’ve made me ignore you for the past four months,” Phil replied calmly, his face sporting a pursed frown.

“This is different, Phil! You have–” Dan cut himself off, realizing his voice began to raise.

The teacher shot a sharp look in their direction, so Dan turned himself around.

When the class ended, Phil was quickly out the door, and Dan didn’t have it in him to follow. He’d said not to worry…

* * *

Dan couldn’t bring himself not to worry. He realized, then, that he’d asked the exact thing of Phil, to not worry. And it was impossible for the both of them. What his mother had said earlier just now resonated in him, and he was thinking about what kind of impact he could have on someone – not just someone, but Phil. Somehow, Dan ended up with Phil’s number dialed into his phone. He looked at the numbers on the screen. “I’m sorry” seemed like too much of a cop out, but he didn’t know what else to say. He pressed the call button.

At the first beep, Dan remembered that it was late and he didn’t want to wake Phil. At the second beep, Dan started to shake. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. In the middle of the third beep, Dan hung up.

Moments later, his phone started to ring.

 

_**I AM UP AGAINST THE WALL** _

Dan stared at the ringing phone until a “(1) Missed Call” notification appeared on the screen. There was little time to look at the notification before the phone started to ring again, and this time Dan picked up.

“Hello?” he spoke, trying to get his hands to stop shaking.

“Dan,” Phil answered, “Why’d you call?”

Dan forced a laugh, “What? You called me.”

“Don’t play dumb,” Phil commanded, “I know you called.”

He sighed, “I’m sorry. Phil, I’m so sorry for… all of this.”

The line stayed silent for a few fleeting moments, before Phil spoke: “Me too.”

Dan was at a loss for words. He didn’t understand how Phil could possibly think that this was his fault at all, _at all_ , and yet here he was.

“Phil, I’ve been so lonely,” Dan started, his voice shaking. “I miss you and it’s been months since we’ve actually, properly spoken. I know you know that… I just, I’m sorry.” Before Phil had a chance to reply, Dan started to speak again. “And will you tell me what happened to you?”

“I told you not to worry,” Phil responded, “I’m really okay.”

“But what _happened_? I can’t just not worry.” Dan tugged at the hem of his shirt with his open hand.

Phil let out a sigh, “I was home during one of my parents’ fights.”

“Phil! They… hit you?” Dan clenched his eyes shut. By pushing Phil away, Dan had taken away Phil’s safe space, the place where Phil went to escape his troubles at home. It hit Dan how selfish he’d been – the thought of taking this safety away from Phil had never crossed his mind. And yet, now Phil had a bruise to show for it.

“It was an accident,” Phil spoke slowly, “He didn’t mean to but everything was getting heated and I got in the way and… he shoved me a bit. I fell and hit my face on the table.”

Dan’s voice lowered to a murmur. “You really need to tell someone about this.”

“It was never physical before this,” Phil defended, “They never physically hurt each other.”

“But they hurt you!” Dan couldn’t contain the anger that spurted up from his chest.

“Dan… I’m okay, really. Just believe me on this?” Phil sounded desperate.

Considering all the things Phil had done for Dan in the past, Dan let out a defeated “okay.”

“Thank you.”

“If it happens again–”

“I know.” Phil interrupted. “Anyway, how’s your therapy going?”

“Oh. I– uh, started skipping. And now my mum is cancelling.”

Phil was quiet as he thought of what to say. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“No,” Dan replied, “It wasn’t working out.”

“Oh,” Phil breathed, “Do you want… me to–”

“No,” Dan sighed, “I don’t want to lay this all on you again.”

Phil let out a frustrated huff, knowing he couldn’t get Dan to change his mind. “Will you call me again, at least?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll call you,” Dan confirmed.

“Talk to you later?” Phil asked, and Dan imagined that a slight smile graced his lips.

“Talk to you soon.”

* * *

If Dan had a count of “Nights Since I’ve Last Had the Nightmare,” the count would have dropped to 0 that night.

* * *

Summer approached quickly, and before long Dan was out of school. Part of him was relieved; no more research papers or anxiety-inducing presentations, no more being forced to do group work with people he didn’t know. No more avoiding Phil.

With nothing to do, Dan ended up at the beach a lot. Sometimes other people would be there and sometimes not, but no one ever really paid any extra attention to Dan, which he liked. He could sit in the sand and throw rocks into the water for hours with no one saying a word to him. He often imagined himself on a boat, far off on the horizon – just him, and maybe Phil if it were a good day. Maybe he’d found his so-called “happy place,” far away from any socialization and responsibilities. Just the water, the wind, and Phil.

Dan tilted his head upwards, feeling the sunlight heat his skin. A gentle breeze softly tousled his hair, which had started to curl slightly because of the moisture in the air. Dan absentmindedly wondered if Phil ever got sea-sick. He dragged his fingers through the sand, leaving little valleys in his wake. He smoothed over the creases and drew a circle, before smoothing that over as well. He decided that Phil probably did get sea-sick. And if he didn’t, he would probably get sick of being stuck on a boat with Dan. Phil was removed from Dan’s happy place, along with the boat.

He just floated in the ocean, waves rolling over his body and face. It was lonely but it was what he thought he deserved.

After all, Phil had become almost like a fantasy; the boys talked over the phone every night but had the mutual agreement to act as if they didn’t know each other when they saw the other in person. Dan had been adamant about this, especially after the first night that he’d had the nightmare again.

He didn’t tell Phil he’d had it, and he realized he’d never actually explained the dream to Phil at all. All Phil knew of it was that one outburst on _The Night of Confrontation_. Dan intended to keep it that way.

Nights seemed to repeat themselves; Dan would call Phil and they wouldn’t really say much – they’d speak as if they were walking on a tightrope – and then Phil would say “good night” and Dan would hang up. He would fall asleep shortly after, and wake in a sweat and shivers.

He wondered if this was all worth it.

* * *

Late one night, Phil asked over the phone if he could sleep over. “Bad night,” he’d said.

The line was silent for a long while, Dan thinking about that one night months ago where he exploded. And he thought of the bruise.

“Can you… stay with someone else?” Dan’s voice was quiet, unsure. “PJ?”

Dan heard Phil click his tongue over the line. “I can’t stay at PJ’s.”

Not sure of his boundaries, Dan didn’t demand an explanation.

“What if… you just stay in your room and I stay on the phone with you?” Dan suggested, trying at all costs to avoid another night where he would scare Phil. “I’m really sorry.” He tagged on.

“Dan, why don’t you want to see me?” Phil’s tone was soft and very, very sad. Dan felt his heartstrings being tugged. When Dan didn’t reply, Phil continued. “Is this about that dream? You’ve never told me about it.”

“I… can’t.” Dan clenched his eyes shut and swallowed harshly.

“I might be able to help.” Phil was reaching, and all Dan had to do was accept him.

“I don’t,” – _want your help_. No. “I don’t know.” Dan took a deep breath. “Why are you asking now?”

Phil took a long time to respond, leaving Dan to listen to the static silence of the phone line. “Dan,” he finally breathed, “I know you. You only tell the truth in the dark.”

“I–” Dan couldn’t think of a way to finish, and so he left the word to hang in the air.

“I can tell,” Phil started, his tone still laced with sadness, “that you don’t want to call me at night. You don’t want to tell me things about you, because you don’t want to hand your troubles to me. But, Dan, you don’t have to bear them _alone_. You’ve never had to be alone.” Phil sighed into the phone. “You let me know that you’re struggling, but you don’t let me help. I just have to watch. I don’t think that you understand that what you’re doing now – avoiding everyone who tries to help – is actually hurting us more than if you’d give us some of your burden and let us _help_ you.”

“I’m sorry,” Dan responded, and he felt a tear stream down his cheek. After the first came another, and another, and another. “Phil?” Dan couldn’t stop himself from hiccuping.

“I’m still here.”

“Come over.” Dan wiped at his eyes. “Please.”

 

_**TONIGHT I’LL NEED YOU TO STAY** _

By the time Phil arrived, Dan had stopped crying. Most of Phil’s prior words hadn’t been anything new, really. His therapist, his mother, and Phil himself had been telling him those same things for months, but this time it finally, _finally_ clicked.

Dan wasn’t meant to be on his own. He couldn’t do this on his own. Why it’d taken him so damn long to realize something so glaringly obvious, he didn’t know.

Phil was absolutely right, though, that Dan hadn’t thought that he’d been hurting those who wanted to help him by not letting them do so. He was sure he’d been sparing them the trouble, but Phil had just now brought to light a side of the situation Dan hadn’t considered.

“Dan?” Phil’s voice was soft as he slowly opened Dan’s bedroom door and peered inside, the light from the hallway softly illuminating Dan’s before dark room.

“Hey,” Dan mustered up a small smile as he beckoned Phil closer. “I missed you.”

After closing the door, Phil navigated through the moonlit room and approached Dan’s bed, sitting on it before scooching over so that their thighs touched. “I missed you, too.”

Dan took hold of Phil hand, tracing the lines on his palm.

“I’m really sorry.” Dan didn’t look up from Phil’s hand. “I was acting really–”

“Don’t apologize,” Phil said, a slight smile upon his lips. “You were doing what you thought was right.”

“Still,” Dan met eyes with Phil again, and he did really miss him.

They were quiet for a few moments before Dan spoke up again.

“About the dream,” he said, prompting Phil to wrap his hand around one of Dan’s. “I had it the first time before we even really started talking. I…” Dan paused, swallowing thickly, “It’s really hard to explain.”

“That’s okay,” Phil assured, “Take your time.”

Dan did take his time, but after he’d told Phil about it, he felt like tons of weight had been taken of his shoulders. And, he realized, that weight did not transfer over to Phil. It was simply gone. The thought made him laugh. All this time, he’d thought he had to carry this alone. He’d never considered that he could just drop it.

Soon, Dan’s crying again, and Phil was wiping away his tears with gentle hands.

“I missed you so much.” Dan smiled into the fabric of Phil’s shirt as he pulled Phil into a hug, “I was so stupid.”

“You were not,” Phil replied immediately as he traced circles on Dan’s back. “Just misguided.”

Dan did have the nightmare that night, but Phil was there to hold him and assure him that he was okay, this would all be okay, and he didn’t have to be alone.

* * *

Phil pressed his feet into the sand, staring at the wide expanse of water before him.

“You know,” Dan spoke up, wiggling his toes and taking another step closer to the water. “They say the person you think of when you look at the ocean is the person you’re in love with.”

Cracking a smile, Phil looked over to his companion. “Is that so?”

“I mean,” Dan tore his gaze from Phil and swept his sight across the ocean once again. “That’s what they _say_. Doesn’t mean I believe it.”

Phil strode forward until his feet sank into the damp sand of the immediate shore. “It’s a nice thought.”

“Who’re you thinking of?” Dan inquired as he matched Phil’s stance. A wave rolled up onto the sand and just barely washed over their feet.

“Take a wild guess,” Phil said and Dan noticed that the bright blue of the sky reflected wonderfully off of Phil’s eyes.

Dan just smiled to himself, his eyes following a white-capped wave that moved smoothly towards them. The wave died down before it glided up onto the shore.

The ocean was a scary thing; a vast, mysterious thing that could never be tamed. But it was also so beautiful and unrelenting, and so, so ambivalent.

Dan continued to smile at the open blue as he reached his hand out to Phil, the latter taking the offer and intertwining their fingers. Maybe the ocean wasn’t such a lonely place, after all.

And sure, Dan would never feel completely better or “cured” or whatever, but he felt pretty damn good right then.


End file.
